Jacob Walked Away Limping. Most of Us Do.

A bathroom can be remodeled again.

The years I missed with my children can’t be.

A couple of years ago, Annita and I rushed into hiring someone to remodel our master bathroom. Two years later, we’re practically back where we started.

The workmanship was their responsibility. Rushing into the decision was mine.

That’s a frustrating lesson about impatience. But it’s far from the biggest regret I carry.

During my recent hospital stay, I started reading God Never Gives Up on You by Max Lucado, which I wrote about in God Isn’t Finished With This Stubborn Man Yet. I’ve finished it now. I didn’t expect Jacob’s story to make me look this hard at my own life.

But it did.

And one truth kept coming back to me: God has been faithful, even when I haven’t been.

A Man Who Wanted Things His Way

Jacob wasn’t a model of good decision-making. He took advantage of his hungry brother Esau to get his birthright (Genesis 25:29–34 NLT). With his mother’s help, he deceived his father and took the blessing intended for Esau (Genesis 27 NLT). His choices tore his family apart and sent him running from home.

And while he was running, God met him at Bethel and promised to be with him (Genesis 28:10–22 NLT).

Not because Jacob had earned it. Because God keeps His promises.

I see myself in Jacob more than I’d like to admit. Patience has never been one of my strengths. I want problems solved and decisions made, now. I see something I want, and my attitude is the old Nike slogan: Just Do It.

That works fine when I’m buying a tool. It doesn’t work when the consequences last for years.

Proverbs 19:2 NLT warns about rushing ahead without knowledge. I’m 55, and I’m still learning that one.

The Decisions I Wish I Could Make Again

I was accepted to The Ohio State University.

But I didn’t go. Instead, I chose to work and attend a local college, and I never finished. I’ve taken classes on and off since, but not finishing is one of the biggest regrets I carry. There were times I lacked motivation, took the easier road, or spent time on things that didn’t matter.

The irony is that I taught my kids, “What we start, we finish.” I meant it. I just didn’t always live it.

Then there’s the bigger one.

I spent years driving a truck. The bills had to be paid, and I was doing what I believed a man was supposed to do. Provide.

But the road took something a paycheck never replaced.

I missed school events. Choir concerts. Birthday parties. Games. Too many moments to count. Things that happen once and don’t come around again.

I was providing for their future while missing pieces of their childhood.

Providing wasn’t wrong. But providing and being present aren’t the same thing. A family needs both.

If I could go back, I’d choose a job that kept me home.

The Father I Didn’t Have

There’s another part of my past that shaped how I approached fatherhood.

I grew up with a stepfather who was never a father to me. He was hateful and controlling. He even believed he was some kind of prophet, some kind of god.

When I became a dad, I knew I didn’t want my kids living through what I lived through.

But knowing the kind of father you don’t want to be doesn’t teach you how to be the father you should be. I carried things out of that house that I should have recognized and dealt with sooner.

I love my children more than I can say. They’re among the greatest blessings of my life. But I didn’t get everything right, and I missed a lot with my two oldest. By the time my younger ones came along, I’d learned some things and tried to do better.

Doing better later doesn’t erase what you missed earlier.

Deuteronomy 6:6–7 NLT tells parents to repeat God’s commands to their children again and again—at home and on the road, at bedtime and first thing in the morning. Everyday life. I wish I’d taken that more seriously. More time teaching them Scripture and talking through hard decisions. Greater patience. A better example and fewer instructions.

Being a good father isn’t only about providing. It’s about being there and pointing your kids toward God.

What Took Me Too Long to Learn

I was raised by a man who thought he was god. I’ve had to learn the opposite.

I am their father. I am not their God.

I’m responsible for the example I set and the choices I made. But their choices are their own. Their outcomes aren’t mine to control, and they never were.

What I can do is love them, pray for them, own where I fell short, and keep becoming a better man.

What I can’t do is turn back the clock.

The Night Jacob Wrestled

Years after he’d wronged Esau—and after twenty years working for and being repeatedly deceived by his uncle Laban—Jacob had to go home and face his brother (Genesis 31:38–42 NLT). He was terrified.

The night before, Jacob wrestled with a man until daybreak (Genesis 32:22–32 NLT). His hip was wrenched out of its socket. He came away with a blessing and a new name: Israel.

When the sun came up, he was limping.

He walked into that night wrestling. He walked out limping, but blessed.

I can’t shake that image.

My left knee needs to be replaced. Heart problems have been part of my life for years, including this latest hospital stay. Some of that is family history. Some of it, honestly, is years of eating what I wanted and not exercising like I should.

I don’t believe God gave me heart problems to punish me. But they’ve made me think hard about how much time I have and what I’m doing with it.

Some limps you can see. Some you carry where nobody else can. Regrets. Missed moments. Words you wish you could take back.

Walking Toward the Person You Hurt

Jacob couldn’t undo what he’d done to Esau. He still had to walk toward him.

And Esau ran to meet him, threw his arms around him, and they wept (Genesis 33:1–11 NLT).

The years didn’t disappear. But the door opened.

Maybe there’s someone you need to walk toward. An apology you’ve put off. A conversation you keep saying you’ll have. It might not go the way it went for Jacob. Sometimes the other person isn’t ready. Sometimes the damage doesn’t fully heal. And sometimes it isn’t safe to go back at all.

But where you can, own your part. The outcome isn’t your responsibility. Walking toward them is.

Back to Bethel

Jacob’s story doesn’t end with a hug. His family went through dark, painful years after that reunion (Genesis 34 NLT).

Then God called him back to Bethel, the place where it all started (Genesis 35:1–15 NLT). And this time, Jacob led. He told his household to put away their foreign gods and get ready to worship the Lord.

Jacob didn’t go back as the man who’d left. After all those failures, he returned and found God still there.

His mistakes were real. So were the consequences. But his failures never canceled God’s promises.

That’s the part that gives me hope.

Grace Isn’t a Free Pass

When I look back over 55 years, I’ve disappointed myself plenty. I’ve taken the easy road, lost my patience, hurt people I love, and known what was right without doing it.

And God has been with me through all of it.

That doesn’t mean He approved of everything I did. It means He didn’t let go.

But grace isn’t permission to keep living the same way.

Jesus didn’t come to make us comfortable with our sin. He came to save us from it. Romans 5:8 NLT says God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. He died for our sins, was buried, and rose again (1 Corinthians 15:3–4 NLT).

Ephesians 2:8–10 NLT says we’re saved by grace through faith, not by anything we’ve earned. And in the same breath, it says we were created in Christ Jesus to do good works.

We don’t change our lives to earn grace. Grace changes how we live.

No degree, career, or bank account can buy salvation. And no pile of regrets puts you beyond God’s mercy.

Grace calls for a response: faith, repentance, and following Jesus. James 1:22 NLT says not to merely listen to God’s Word, but to do what it says.

Not just when life falls apart. Every day.

What I Can Still Do

I’ll probably always wish I’d gone to Ohio State, finished school, chosen a different job, and been home more when my kids were young.

My heart will still need watching. My knee isn’t getting any younger. And that impatient part of me will want to jump into something without thinking it through.

But I don’t have to keep making the same decisions.

I can still be a better husband to Annita. A more intentional father. A Papa my grandkids know loves them and loves Jesus.

I can slow down before I decide. Instead of asking God for wisdom last, I can ask Him first. That means opening my Bible, praying with my family, listening more, and apologizing when I’m wrong.

And I can show up—for the school events, the concerts, the games, and the moments with my grandkids that I missed too often with my own children.

Not because it erases the past. Because I finally know what those moments are worth.

I wrote recently in Don’t Assume They Know: The Things I Don’t Want Left Unsaid about telling the people we love what they mean to us. This is the other half of that. Love isn’t only something your family should hear. It’s something they should see in whether you show up.

Don’t Let Yesterday Take Today

So if you’re carrying your own regrets, hear this from a man who doesn’t have it figured out:

Don’t spend so long wishing you could change yesterday that you miss what God is asking of you today.

Own it. Make it right where you can. Be present for the people you love. Slow down long enough to seek God’s wisdom.

And don’t confuse knowing about Jesus with following Him.

You can’t change the road behind you. By God’s grace, you can change the direction you’re walking today.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, thank You for Your patience with me through all the years I didn’t get it right. Forgive my impatience, my poor decisions, and the times I put my plans ahead of Your wisdom. Help me learn from my past without letting regret control my future. Teach me to lead my family with love, humility, and faith. Thank You for the forgiveness and salvation You offer through Jesus Christ. Help me become more like Him, not just in what I say, but in how I live. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Something to Think About

What’s one moment this week you could show up for that you’d regret missing?

Jacob walked away limping, but he didn’t walk away without God.

I’ve got my own limp. Thank God He’s still working on me.